She sprang at me like a wildcat; I defended myself as well as I could without really hurting her, maintaining my hold on the revolver, but not attempting to use it on my scratching, clawing antagonist.

The station-master came out of Lone Tree station, a mile away, and walked up the track to see what was going on.

Of course he had no notion of what it was, but it amused him to see the fight, and he kept cheering and urging on Miss Sally, probably with the idea that she was my wife and we were indulging in a domestic squabble.

At the same time it chanced that a boat load of six or eight of the roughest fellows it had ever been my lot to meet, and all with their belts stuck full of knives and revolvers, came rowing across the river, not far away, and landed just in time to "see the fun." When Miss Spitfire saw these ruffians she ceased clawing and biting me, and appealed to them.
I was dumbfounded by the falsehood ready on her lips.
"Will you, _gentlemen_," said she, "stand by and see a young lady deserted by this sneak ?" "What's up ?" asked a brawny fellow, seven feet high, glaring at me as if he thought I had committed seventeen murders.
"I'll tell you," responded Spitfire, panting for breath.

"We was engaged to be married, we was, all fair an' square.